


carry me close

by ashinan



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Study, Coda, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Gentleness, M/M, Pining, Pre-Slash, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-05 18:54:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25560169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashinan/pseuds/ashinan
Summary: Fjord finds a familiar necklace amongst the loot.
Relationships: Fjord/Caleb Widogast
Comments: 11
Kudos: 220





	carry me close

**Author's Note:**

> originally written because I like aftermath scenes; when Caleb gave up his anti-scry to Vokodo I legit screeched at the television and the story below just projected itself full form into my head. it took a bit for me to get it down. hasn't been a lot of creativity in my head lately (which I am told is normal). please be gentle with me

Fjord blows out a breath, knees shaking as the Star Razor dips into the gore of Vokodo’s ruined body. Yasha slices her sword into its remains, over and over and _over_ , until it’s nothing but mush and entrails, though that does little to deter her. Viciousness clouds her face, the arch of her wings high and furious still. Head falling back, Fjord breathes as he stares up at the ceiling. Adrenaline pings through his system, rapid fire but slowly failing. He’s singed still from their redirected spells, nearly every one ricocheting off some magically charged shield from the fucker. Gives himself a shake before rolling his shoulders back. Glances around the cavern for the rest of their party.

Jester’s pulling Beau back from the brink, arms shaking as she pushes Beau’s hair away from her shattered face. She’s bruised and battered and the mortal wound along her stomach closes slowly, Jester having to hold the organs that began to slip out in place as her magic weaves Beau together. Her chest rises and falls in stuttery bursts; Fjord prays she’s still unconscious, cannot begin to fathom how being forcibly reconstructed must _feel_. With a twinkle of pink and blue light, Jester closes the final stretch of skin and sags. 

Beyond Jester, Caleb stands at the far wall, a hunched shadow so very still he nearly blends in. His hands twist together. His hair had fallen loose from its careful braid; he’s singed slightly just like all of them, the blue of his eyes noticeable solely from the magic still crackling through him. He stands alone and apart and Fjord aches. 

Forcing his gaze away, Fjord approaches Yasha. Doesn’t touch her right away, not when her expression remains taunt and crumpled in rage, shoulders heaving. With one last disgusting twist of her sword, Yasha stops. Exhales. Keeps exhaling until her shoulders fall and her face clears and her eyes, finally, fall shut.

“I think it’s dead,” Fjord offers softly. Yasha’s lashes flutter as she jerkily meets his gaze. Gives a slight nod, her wings trembling as they tuck in close to her body. They shimmer and shift, the new white down amongst the skeletal backdrop of her wings glowing faintly before they disappear with a gentle hush of light. 

“Are you all right?” Yasha asks. 

Fjord shrugs, an incredulous laugh sticking in his throat. “I’m quite certain that was one of the more harrowing battles we’ve been in; thankfully, I only fell once.” 

Nodding, Yasha asks, “Did anyone else fall?” 

When Fjord points toward Beau and Jester, Yasha’s gaze tightens in pain, teeth pinching the inside of her cheek as a soft sound of distress leaves her. She doesn’t move. Breathes in and out visibly before ripping her gaze away, turning back toward the corpse spread out like paste before them. Her fingers grip and relax along the hilt of Magician’s Judge. 

“The loot it had,” Yasha starts, voice rough. Clears her throat and gestures with her sword at the massacred remains. She’d managed to mostly cleave into its body, leaving the hoard virtually untouched except for the stinking mess that’s soaked into it now. Fjord spins his sword in his hand before poking at the various shinies glimmering through the gore. Yasha drops to her knees, hands digging into the worst of it as she tosses the body. 

He’s not searching for anything specific, barely even paying attention, really, as his sword churns through the remains. The adrenaline fades faster, allowing shock and the continued electric tingle of a Witchbolt redirected to flash through him. Flipping over a hunk of flesh, he catches the glint of silver amongst the red and gold. He crouches. Digs the Star Razor into useless meat until he’s mostly under the delicate shimmer. As he lifts, a silver chain goes taunt before a pendant yanks free with a sickening, sucking sound. A familiar symbol; _Caleb’s pendant_. 

Fjord draws it close and pools the bloody pendant in his palm. Flecks of viscera and flesh dim the shine of the silver, stuck between the elegant twists of the chain. Vanishing the Star Razor, Fjord takes the edge of his cloak and wipes it off, the fabric already ruined by their battle. What’s a bit more gunk? He scrubs at it, peripherally aware of Yasha digging and tossing things behind her. It’s mostly clean by the time Veth joins them, Fjord dumping a bit of his waterskin over the metal until it gleams again.

“Find anything good?” Veth asks tentatively. She’s clutching her crossbow to her chest, eyes wide and startled beneath the blue of her tattoo. She’d only taken a bit of damage, thankfully; once they’d negated Vokodo’s ability to perceive them, Veth’s stealth cinched their victory.

Tucking the pendant into his side satchel, Fjord straightens with a groan. “Nothing yet. Help Yasha look through the rest of it.” 

Veth nods, gaze flitting for a second over their exhausted group, before she lays her crossbow down beside Yasha’s sword. She heads to the side of Vokodo’s massive corpse and gets to work. 

Turning on his heel, Fjord limps away. Jester talks quiet to a newly awakened Beau, still holding her close. Blood cakes Jester's hair to her temple. Beau’s blearily following along, nodding when she can. Her fingers are still mangled from Vokodo’s destructive force on her gloves; Jester’s pink healing energy circles around her hand in a careful and cooling bubble of divine light. Both of them glance up when Fjord walks by. He gives Jester a tired smile; she doesn’t return it, eyes haunted. 

By the time he makes it to Caleb’s side, he’s lightheaded and every cut throbs with renewed viciousness. Caleb still hasn’t moved, staring into the middle distance just above where the corpse lays, hands twisted together. His clothes are ripped, book harness barely holding on by its finely stitched threads, the amber necklace glowing ethereal in the light from the lair. Blood slowly trickles from his nose. He’s standing, at least, and Fjord relaxes just a smidge.

Stepping into Caleb’s line of sight doesn’t break the blank staring; his eyes drift over Fjord and then float by, returning almost curiously before sliding away again. They’d all been Greater Restored that morning, but the glaze over Caleb’s expression isn’t one of memories lost; shock, most likely. The battle had been far from easy. 

“Caleb,” Fjord says quietly. Caleb blinks at him, gaze unable to fixate, here but not. Fjord steps a bit closer, taking up as much visual range as possible. Caleb’s pupils are huge. “Caleb, you with me?” 

“I am with you, Fjord,” Caleb whispers, a bare choke of sound. His fingers are stained black with soot, thumb dragging lines into the palm of his right hand, again and again. A full body shudder rips through him. Caleb grinds his thumb down hard before focusing properly on Fjord. “I am with you.” 

“Good.” Fjord closes the remainder of the distance. Makes sure Caleb can see every little thing he’s doing; that far away look reminds him of when Caleb goes catatonic, but he’s mostly out of it now. Someone should have been with him at the end. _Fjord_ should have - no, he refuses to go down that path. “Are you hurt?” 

Caleb laughs, a harsh, bitter sound, before he jerks his eyes away. He’s just as singed as the rest of them, though many of the redirected spells tended to attack those around Vokodo. Fjord aches for him. Caleb licks heat cracked lips. “Nothing as dire.” 

Fjord nods. Takes stock of Caleb’s wounds himself; notes the heavy gash that’s bleeding sluggishly along his side, the lacerations along his cheek that disappear into his hairline, the hole in his thigh that is only noticeable due to the blood darkening already dark fabric. “I have one more spell I can use, if you’d allow me.”

Bright blue eyes meet his, shimmering still with magic well cast, electricity lancing through wide pupils. “You are much more hurt than I. It does not make sense for you to use it on me.” 

“Except that I want to,” Fjord counters, and holds out his hand. Caleb stares down at his open palm for a long moment. Flicks his eyes up to Fjord’s, eyebrows pinched as he studies Fjord’s expression. Tentatively, he reaches out, right palm to right palm, the rasp of their scars connecting lighting up something within Fjord. He ignores it, angling his wrist so he can place his other hand atop Caleb’s. He concentrates on the nearly depleted well of cool magic within himself. 

The magic rushes to the surface, eager to be called. It sings through him, so vastly different from Ukotoa’s brand of ice and pain. The balm of a sea breeze courses through him, the buoyancy of clean, clear water soothing his wounds, the splash of brine on the back of his tongue that doesn’t immediately force him to gag. Fjord focuses on the gash along Caleb’s side, the bloodied cuts over his cheek. The magic pinpricks along his skin like water droplets before spiralling into Caleb, spreading in faint green wisps. Caleb’s lashes flutter as he inhales. The wounds begin to close, though not as much as Fjord would like. He’s not quite versed in healing enough to ask for more of the Wildmother’s power. 

“That’s all I can do,” Fjord says apologetically. He doesn’t let go of Caleb’s hand. 

Caleb tilts his head back to meet Fjord’s gaze, a bare smile ghosting over his lips. “You are getting much better at that.” 

Fjord chuckles softly, thumb rubbing over Caleb’s knobbly knuckles. “Not quite as good as others, but I’m doing my best. Thankfully, I don’t have any more cats to heal.” 

The smile grows, visible now, as Caleb allows a small huff of laughter. His fingers flex against Fjord’s wrist, palm warm, scar warmer. Fjord watches him unabashedly, can’t help squeezing when Caleb’s shoulders start to inch up again, instinctively drawing Caleb's attention outward. “There’s lots of loot to go through. Feel up to finding something shiny?” 

“Ah, that is one other good thing to come out of this,” Caleb says, leaning to the side to peer around Fjord. They’re standing far closer now, the pull between them palpable. Fjord swallows. Caleb throws another small smile Fjord’s way. “Perhaps we can get Veth’s gun back.”

“That reminds me.” Fjord eases their hands apart as he digs into the satchel on his hip. His fingers twine around the fine chain as he pulls the anti-scry necklace free, pooling it in his palm. It tingles cool against his scar as he holds it out toward Caleb. “For you.” 

“ _Oh_ ,” Caleb says softly, eyes wide as his fingers ghost over the pendant. A bare brush against Fjord’s palm, against his scar, and Fjord shivers. “You found it.” 

“One of the first things I found,” Fjord says with a swell of pride before a flush runs rampant over his face. Shit. “Not that I was looking for it, specifically, just that I happened upon it. Amongst all the other - stuff.” Fjord exhales, tries again, “Do you want it back?” 

“ _Ja_ ,” Caleb says softly. The tips of his fingers follow the delicate design of the pendant, gaze glued to the symbol. The fact that Caleb had given it up still rankles Fjord; thankfully, none of their - _Caleb’s_ \- many enemies had zeroed in on Caleb’s location, or, if they had, they hadn’t acted upon it yet. Fjord taps down on the unease that bubbles still when faced with Caleb being so unprotected.

Caleb remains still, expression far away, fingers frozen. Quiet, Fjord asks, “Would you like me to put it on you?” 

Blinking, Caleb inhales sharply, before glancing up. Gives the tiniest nod as he removes his hand. Fjord steps in a bit closer, lifting the necklace and fiddling with the clasp on the end. The chain isn’t long enough to easily slip over Caleb’s head; once Fjord wrangles it open, he tilts forward to loop it around Caleb’s neck. 

Caleb’s hand lifts, cradling Fjord’s elbow as his eyes close just slightly, lashes swept low. He’s covered in blood and soot and various wounds, and he’s the most beautiful person Fjord has ever seen. Being this close sends Fjord’s heart into a gallop; the damn clasp won’t cooperate. Fjord shuffles a bit closer, fingers combing through Caleb’s hair to part it around the nape of his neck, allowing him to properly see. It has the added effect of _giving_ Fjord that unfettered view, of the vulnerable arc of Caleb’s neck, how thin skin pulls over the delicate knobs of Caleb’s spine. He swallows hard. Worries a moment that he’s breaching too much of Caleb’s space, but Caleb just sighs low, shoulders relaxing completely as he sways forward, chin dropping forward further to allow Fjord access. Another shiver ripples through Fjord. Mixes warm with the old want that he’s forever attempting to get a handle on. The clasp finally catches.

Fjord draws his fingers along the chain, adjusting any twists in the metal before meeting at the pendant just beneath Caleb’s clavicle. Rests his fingertips against the cool metal, gaze catching on the small hunk of amber hanging just below it. His heart skips. Sliding his hand down, he gently picks up the amber. Can’t see the Cloven Crystal within, but a thrum begins in his chest, knowledge mixing with fear. Caleb’s fingers catch his wrist, not quite circling but holding. When Fjord meets his gaze, it’s soft and understanding. 

“It is still in there,” Caleb says. His fingers squeeze slightly. 

“That wasn’t my worry,” Fjord says, allowing the vulnerability to show on his face for a moment. “I should have taken it back when you gave up your necklace. I put you in unnecessary danger.” 

“I am a big boy,” Caleb jokes, smile quirked and lovely. His eyes remain soft. “ _Danke_ , for returning the necklace to me.” Caleb hesitates a moment, tongue quick over his lips. “I can keep holding it.” 

Fjord smiles, that adoration swelling sharp behind his breastbone. “And you call me the selfless one.” 

A soft flush bundles over Caleb’s nose, his eyes wide as he blinks up at Fjord. Flushes brighter when Fjord refuses to break their gaze, gently placing the amber back against Caleb’s thin chest. With a shaky breath, Caleb tucks a stray bit of hair behind his ear, clearing his throat. “We should assist with the looting. I am certain this thing had an interesting item or two.” 

Fjord allows the deflection, their usual song and dance, and steps out of Caleb’s space. A quiet yearning beats against his chest, ever present. “Considering what we gave it, there’s considerably more than two.” 

Caleb smiles at that, one of the soft, quieter ones that Fjord covets. With a sharp nod of his head, Caleb shoves his sleeves up and steps past Fjord, gaze focused on the hoard Veth and Yasha are combing through. He hesitates, a single painful moment, and Fjord brushes a hand over his back. Caleb leans back into the contact, a hitch in his breath before he nods and strides forward.

Fjord presses his thumb into the centre of his right palm before following.

**Author's Note:**

> yall noticing how I like to write codas? im noticing I like to write codas... come follow me on [my fandom twitter](https://twitter.com/ashinanfandom?s=09) (where I am crying all the time about critrole and widofjord lbr)


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